


because feathers aren’t required for sticking together

by RealmOfBlue



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Amnesia, Deer Wrangling, Fishing in Strange Places, Gen, Giant Swords, Hurt/Comfort, I promise, I should probably stop tagging now, Injury, Kass is the male version of a mama-bird and I love him, Kass misses his teacher, Kass the shrine nerd, Kass would adopt Link but the world is cruel, Kass’ kids are just really heckin’ cute okay, Link (Legend of Zelda) Gets a Hug, Link (Legend of Zelda) Needs a Hug, Link is tired of getting kicked in the face, Link seemed lonely so I gave him a birb teacher, Link will eat you out of house and home, Selectively Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), Yes beta, accordions, amnesia issues with Link—the series, and his family when he’s away, it’s relatively happy and sweet though, it’s slight, no it’s not safe, no you may not shoot the pretty dragon that’s rude, nomadic friendship, ocarinas, shoulda used a bomb Link, some ZeLink because I have no self-control, totally-not-nervous Kass, watch out Kass, we may not die like men but there’s still mistakes I assure you, you get the picture, you may however shoot the Yiga assassin because self-defense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:07:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27742735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RealmOfBlue/pseuds/RealmOfBlue
Summary: “Kass didn’t have an audience, most of the time.” How Kass found an audience, a student, and a hero in the form of a traveller who didn’t mind the storm.
Relationships: Kass and Link, Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 142





	1. Listener

**Author's Note:**

> Kass makes me happy and I was desperate. Enjoy.

Kass didn’t have an audience, most of the time. He played for the plants rustling in the breeze, for the squirrels that skittered about, for the sky and its sun and its moon and its stars. And occasionally, on a gloomy, quiet day, he played for the souls lost in time, the countless bodies that never found graves...for the warriors that fell and never had their story told.

He certainly wasn’t naïve enough to hope for a live audience in the depths of Faron, under a canopy of trees with an ugly shower of rain beating on their leaves. When he heard a rustle in the bushes, he almost jumped out of his feathers. A golden, wet head peeked through the underbrush. Kass lowered his accordion.

Cerulean eyes blinked at him, expectantly.

“Ah! Do you need help?”

The young man shook his head. He looked rather strange, standing there unfazed, drenched and dirty.

Kass was a second away from resuming his practice, but he couldn’t focus when those eyes still stared at him. Then he realized they were staring at his accordion.

“Would you like it if I played?”

An enthusiastic nod followed.

Kass began a solemn song, appropriate for the weather. The kid found a stone nearby and laid there, heedless of the rain. He seemed to enjoy listening; stayed for more than five lengthy (partially due to Kass’ mistakes on the newer ones—pauses that his audience luckily didn’t appear to mind) tunes, adjusting his position every now and then. Eventually, the air grew cold with the coming of night, and though the sun wasn’t visible through the trees and the thick clouds, Kass knew it had sunk low on the horizon. 

“There is a bluff just east of here. I’ve a camp there, and will gladly give you shelter, if you wish.”

There was a faint clattering noise as the equipment on the traveler’s back jostled. He hopped—more like slid—off the rock, and gave Kass an affirmative hum.

When they arrived at the bluff, Kass made to grab the (mostly) dry wood he’d stored in the corner, and threw it on the pile of ash from yesterday. Before he could start the fire, the kid had already knelt down and begun to work on it. There was a welcoming, crackling flame spreading across the fuel in a moment. Kass settled next to the developing blaze.

The kid crouched and poked at the fire, barely shivering. 

“Thank you.”

Kass felt his down rise at the stifled tenor he heard, lightly edged with a southwestern accent. He’d begun to think the kid couldn’t talk.

“You are most welcome,” Kass chirped. “Would you care to tell me your name?”

“Link.”

“Ah. I’m Kass. What an odd thing it must be, to bear the name of the legendary hero.”

Link stopped his prodding abruptly, focused expression changing to a passive look. 

“Are you a bard?” he asked.

“Of sorts. I travel in search of the ancient ballads, the songs native to each region and the tunes long forgotten. What brings you this far into Faron?”

Link shrugged, and Kass didn’t ask any further. He got the feeling that Link was a wanderer—perhaps one who would take interest in such tales and mysteries that Kass often explored. Gesturing to the side of the mountain they were under, Kass began to sing a familiar song to himself; an ancient lullaby. He ran the tip on his wing across the drawings etched in the stone. He’d discovered them a few days ago—the pictures had admittedly been a large factor in his choice of setup.

“I find this to be beautiful, if a tad eerie.”

At Kass’ comment, Link shifted his attention to the images on the wall, cocking his head. He watched as Kass studied the guardian engraved in the center, admiring the detail; traced the heroic figure who faced the nightmare with a gentle touch.

“Whoever took the time to make this had much hope for the future. This drawing looks about a century old; which makes sense, given the subject. I especially admire the handiwork on the hero here...my teacher knew him. The hero from a hundred years ago.”

Link’s eyebrows shot up. 

“He didn’t care for the hero in particular, but he had the privilege of seeing the Champions up close. He wrote many a verse about them.”

Link fetched an apple out of his pouch and munched on it while Kass told him of the Champions. He spoke of Daruk’s strength and humor; of Urbosa’s ferocity and compassion; of Mipha’s grace and pure spirit; of Revali’s skill and pride. He even quoted several lines of his mentor’s poetry, promising to entertain Link with the full versions later. But the longer Kass talked, the more Link’s face fell. He emanated a weariness Kass couldn’t explain; a tiredness that was ill-fitting for his age.

It wasn’t until Link reached for a second apple that Kass spotted the glowing tablet on his hip. 

“Excuse me, but is that—is that a Sheikah Slate?”

Link held it up for Kass to examine, affirming his suspicions. 

“Then you are....” Kass found that he couldn’t finish. He ran his wing through the plume of feathers atop his head. “Could you be...? But the hero is dead, is he not?”

A cricket sang.

Link wouldn’t meet Kass’ urgent gaze. His eyes were trained on the fire, and it’s golden glow was reflected in them, tainting their blue. Then finally, softly, quietly: “I am what remains of him.”

And it hit Kass that the still-damp figure crouched across from him—the _child_ across from him—held the world in his hands. Kass had pictured the legendary hero a thousand times, and he was aware of both the princess’s youth and that of her knight; but at that moment, he saw, in the places the fire could not reach, the shadow of a terrified boy who’s fear had to be crushed day after day. Kass searched for the strength to speak.

“You are a hero nonetheless,” he said. “And in my experience, when something is nearly destroyed, what remains is always the strongest part.”

The words must’ve struck true with Link, if only a bit. He gave Kass a small, grateful smile, and turned in.

That night, Kass went to sleep haunted by ghosts of the past, and woke beside an empty spot where one of them had rested his head.


	2. Songbird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome once again. Thank you for clicking those buttons with your appendages and scanning these words with your eyeballs.

The second time Kass encountered the hero of legend was under much different circumstances. At Wetland Stable, Link ran up to him, literally. He full-on sprinted.

“How have you been, my friend?” Kass asked, genuinely excited.

In response, Link whipped out an old, wooden ocarina; he beamed as he brought it to his lips. Kass listened and hummed along to a stuttering, off-beat, but charming rendition of a sprightly Kokiri tune. He recognized it as one of the songs he’d played back in Faron.

“That’s delightful, Link!” Kass exclaimed. “How did you manage to get ahold of an ocarina?”

“From a traveler—she said she collected relics.” Link offered the instrument to Kass, who took it gladly. It was incredibly light and small in size; just large enough to fit all twelve holes. The flute’s wood was of good quality, but the finish had been torn and scratched by age. Kass couldn’t help but think it had a lot in common with Link.

“Do you mind?”

Link didn’t, of course. He closed his eyes, waiting patiently for Kass to play.

Kass tried a few trills, and found that his feathery fingers were not quite suited for covering the holes properly. The bright, pure sound the flute made kept him going for a few minutes, though; it was soothing. He laughed as he handed the ocarina back to Link.

“You have treasure there. If you are in search of songs, I would be happy to copy down some for you.”

Link scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “I’m no good. I don’t even know how to read music.”

The crest on Kass’ head flattened. “I’m certain I could teach you without a sheet. And it matters not whether you sound like the Goddess herself; you enjoy it, yes?”

Link hesitated, but nodded.

“How did you learn my song, anyway?”

_“It was pretty,”_ Link signed before catching himself, wincing. “Habit.”

Kass gave him an encouraging cluck. “Don’t worry, I understand sign. What were you saying about the song?”

_“Well, it wouldn’t leave my head, and...I kind of guessed.”_

“You played by ear?”

Link’s messy ponytail bobbed. “Mn.”

“That’s a marvelous skill! Impressive to have naturally.”

Kass almost didn’t see the flush that spread across Link’s cheeks, he looked down so quickly. A twittering laugh jerked his head back up.

“Sorry,” Kass said, “you just remind me of my daughter. She can’t take a compliment, especially when it comes to her singing.” 

That only served to make Link’s blush deepen.

Kass would’ve laughed again had he not been stuck in Rito Village. A second after mentioning Cree, home was all he could imagine; his daughters’ songs filling their hut, drafts teasing the ever-burning the fire nestled center of their home, his dear Amali’s wing around his back, and her head nuzzling his shoulder. _I miss her. I miss them all._ But he was here, and he still had the chance to teach a young, willing mind.

“Shall we begin?” Kass asked, and the stable filled with music. It started filling with people, too. Hardly a passerby stuck to the trail without at least a glance in their direction or a smile. The crowd warmed Kass’ heart; hardly anyone was a musician in this age. Art was coming back very slowly—but surely—as people found time for what they truly loved. Even so, the mark of the Calamity lingered, sapped hope and joy from those that remained in the ruined land left behind.

Apparently their performance had touched the hearts of the stable hands as well. They were each offered a free night in the stable, and though Link didn’t partake, his departure was reluctant. Kass could see the longing on his face as he said goodbye, but he also saw the lightness in his step as he walked away, ocarina in hand.

That was the beauty in singing atop the ashes; with every note, a piece of the past was rebuilt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you! I hope the word-scanning was pleasurable, even though this chapter did not contain as many as its predecessor. 
> 
> Sooooo...I know I have this marked for 5 chapters, but I may or may not have gotten super excited and wrote more for whatever reason?? Are guys okay with 7+ (probably 7 unless something weird happens again) instead? The last one will stay the same, and the general narrative won’t change...just had a couple more ideas. I’m on the fence still but it’s looking like they’ll get posted. Here’s some tags that might get added if I bump up the chapter number:
> 
> Deer Wrangling, no it’s not safe, Giant Swords, totally-not-nervous-Kass, Link is tired of getting kicked in the face, Kass the shrine nerd, Farosh, Link can’t remember his family, Hugs, don’t shoot the pretty dragon that’s rude, you may however shoot the Yiga assassin because self-defense


	3. Student

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU CAME HERE THREE TIMES???!!

Kass stumbled upon Link near Jeddo Bridge one day. The music lessons had been sporadic but frequent. Anytime their paths crossed, their instruments sang in unison—this encounter was no exception. Except this time Kass hadn’t run into Link near a stable or ruin or forest...he spotted Link miles below in the river; a yellowish dot on what appeared to be a raft. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was Link, but he couldn’t imagine anyone else drifting so casually across the Tamio, taking a leisurely ride in a virtually inaccessible, semi-freezing, rushing river—and on what essentially was a bundle of sticks. Stretching his wings, Kass secured the accordion on his back and glided down.

When his talons hit the raft, it was empty. There was a makeshift sail in the center, a bucket of fish on one side and a Korok leaf on the other, but no Link. Or there wasn’t until a face popped out of the water a couple feet away, and a hand rose to wave just atop the surface.

Kass warbled with laughter. “I see you do not mind the cold.”

Link swam over and climbed up on the raft, eyes squished by rosy cheeks and purple lips turned up in a smile. “‘S not that c-cold.”

“Ah. My mistake.” Kass loomed over the fish bucket while Link splayed out on the end of the raft, allowing the morning sun to soak his skin in the water’s stead.

A fin twitched. The fish were definitely dead, but Kass admittedly didn’t know how (or how Link had caught them, for that matter, with no suitable gear in sight). Kass blinked. Perhaps it was best that he didn’t know. “Whatever possessed you to fish down here?”

“Curious. And hungry.”

Another laugh. It felt good to laugh, today.

Link sat up and gave Kass a look that asked, “and you?”

“Traveling to the plains,” Kass explained, attempting to maintain the light air. “My teacher taught me his final verse there—he passed a few years ago, you see—I go this time of year and play it in his memory.”

Taking a careful breath, Link made his hand into a fist and circled it around his scarred chest. _“I’m sorry.”_

Kass shook his wing dismissively. “Do not apologize for a natural occurrence, my friend. He taught me much. I am grateful to have been his student, and though I miss him, I am glad he is at peace now.”

An ancient line echoed in his mind as the words left his beak. _Peace is a treasure some never find. One that is oft bought with war._

Kass couldn’t help but take in, with a heavy heart, how high the price was when his gaze caught on Link’s torso; the home of gashes and scratches and burns that had stitched themselves up into a plethora of pinkish marks, varying in size and shape. There were newer bruises and newer scrapes, but nothing spoke of war more than the large, ugly, leathery scar covering his chest.

“You are no stranger to death I am sure,” Kass said softly, “I wonder that you breathe...and I have a hunch it isn’t through natural occurrence.”

“It’s not,” Link began. He opened his mouth to continue, but then his brow furrowed and he paused, bringing his hands up to sign. _“I died—or I would have. But I can’t remember how.”_

“You needn’t tell me if you aren’t comfortable, but do you remember how you were saved?”

_“Sheikah technology. Shrine of Resurrection. Took my memories.”_

Kass’ head spun. He didn’t know what to say. “Link, I’m sorry. Death is enough on it’s own.”

Link sighed a little. _“Not your fault. Mine.”_

“Why?” Kass asked, struggling to reign in his budding anger. “Why do you blame yourself?”

_“This is a second chance for me; to do what I was supposed to do a hundred years ago. I did not succeed the first time, so I must undo my failure.”_

“If you truly failed—truly didn’t play your role, the tales must be false.”

That broke Link out of sign. “Tales?”

“Of the hero who gave his life for the princess.”

Link tilted his head, thought, and offered: _“I’ve been told I fell protecting her.”_

“...As have I been told that you fought for her, and died in the name of Hyrule. You didn’t lay down your sword; you didn’t give up.”

Link glanced back and forth rapidly, like he was looking for a way to escape. _“I don’t know how true that is.”_

Kass made an effort to seize Link’s wandering gaze.“Whatever the truth may be, you have made countless sacrifices for this land. I am confident you have fulfilled your duty to the best of your ability.”

The conversation ended there. Kass played a slow, relaxing tune on the accordion as they floated along; Link’s expression was unreadable and Kass had said his piece, so he let the wind guide them.

After a while of sitting and listening to the rushing river, Link stood. He grabbed the giant Korok leaf lying on the corner, swung it in a large arch, and propelled the raft towards the side of the cliff.

“Would you like to accompany me?” Kass asked, unsurprised by Link’s apparent surprise. “I could teach you my mentor’s song. I think it would please him to know that I am passing his legacy down.”

Link cocked his head. _“Didn’t he hate me? Shouldn’t you pass that to someone else?”_

“I do not know for certain, but...I do believe my teacher’s reservations towards you were based upon jealousy for your position, and nothing more. In any case, he would be happy to know I took on a student, regardless of his personal feelings.”

_“You mean I’m your student?”_ Link signed, almost too swiftly for Kass to make out. _“I’d love to be your student.”_

“Of course, Link! I am honored that you would accept me as a mentor.”

With that, Kass rode the updraft Link’s Korok leaf provided, rising back up to the bridge. He snacked on some of the raw fish he’d carried up for Link as he watched his student make the climb to the top.

_That’s right. My student._

Kass could sing about it for years and never grow tired of those words. _I am a teacher, now._ He repeated the thought to himself a thousand times, and whispered a short, fervent prayer into the breeze: “Hylia, give me the wisdom to be to him what my teacher was to me.” It was a tall order, he knew, but if he could help another kid the same way he was helped; the way he was taken in as a fledgling without a father, the way he found guidance in an unlikely place...it would be worth the effort.

When Link pulled out his ocarina and Kass readied his accordion, Kass knew at once that he would cherish the memory forever. He hoped Link, too, would hold it close; that he would be allowed this memory, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a raw fish, courtesy of Kass and (slightly) feral Link.
> 
> ><(((*>


	4. Adventurer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here goes!

“It’s just up ahead,” Kass said, glancing over his shoulder.

He heard the footsteps behind him quicken. A zephyr rustled the leaves and beckoned him forward, but he went along slowly. In all honesty, Kass was a bit saddened by the thought of making it to his—their—destination. The now-echoed crunch crunch as he trekked along, the faint humming that came and went—the simple knowledge that he wasn’t alone put Kass in an increasingly carefree mood. Finding Link in Kakariko had been nothing if not a pleasant surprise.

He hopped up on a sizable rock to get a better view of the area and exhaled. “Here we are,” he announced, and Link waited patiently for Kass to adjust his accordion.

_“A beast that wears a crown of bone,_

_Prancing through the lush green._

_Mount the beast upon its throne,_

_For only then the shrine is seen.”_

“What do you think?”

Hand on his chin, Link repeated several lines, murmuring.“...A deer?”

“My guess as well. But riding one will require caution—”

Link had jogged back over to the forest before Kass could object or even finish his sentence. The trees covered his view. He could still make out the animalistic sounds that soon erupted from the area, however; consisting of whoops, snorts and squeals that had Kass wondering which came from Link and which came from the poor beast he was surely wrangling. He saw who won out, a minute later, when a buck leapt from the shadows. And bouncing on it’s back: a very wide-eyed, proud Link. He was holding onto its horns for dear life, and smiling.

“You were supposed to find the platform first!” Kass shouted.

Link’s barely audible response was: “Platform?!”

Kass’ beak chattered.

The buck had resorted to prancing in circles, digging it’s front hooves in the soil and nearly tipping over. By a miracle, Link held fast. “Where...is! It!” he called between breaths.

Kass threw his wings up and scanned the mountain range. “I can’t remember! It’s somewhere—”

Link jerked the deer to the left, scaling the hill they were on, but the beast undid his progress promptly, turning to the right and twisting Link’s arm, causing him to lose his balance.

“Get off that thing, Link! Please!”

A second close call passed before Link—thank Hylia—listened. But as soon as he relaxed his grip to jump off, the deer pitched it’s hooves again and he flew forwards, landing directly in the beast’s path.

_Oh dear—_

Link rolled out of the way at the last second. The buck ran over the hillside and into the forest, making those high-pitched cries and snorts all the way.

Rushing over, Kass knelt next to Link. The kid, to his relief, got to his feet almost immediately, forcing himself upright with a wobble. Then he spat grass out of his mouth, fell backwards into the dirt again, and burst into laughter.

It was contagious, unfortunately. Kass brought his wing up to his beak to stifle the chuckles rising in his throat. He only found the strength to stop when Link’s laugh got a little too wheezy.

“Are you alright?”

Link rose to his knees and winced, but gave Kass a thumbs-up.

“What hurts?”

“Pretty much everything,” Link said with a snort.

“You didn’t...hit your head, did you?”

Link shot Kass an amused look. He straightened, knocked his skull four times, pursed his lips, and shook his head.

“Well that’s good,” Kass said, and gave Link a second-(perhaps third?)-over. “Are you certain you’re okay?”

Another reassuring demonstration occurred. “Let’s find the throne,” Link said, and made a point of prancing up the hill. Kass followed him with a sigh.

They found it, soon enough. Kass suggested they try a more gentle approach in regards to acquiring a beast, and Link agreed. He attempted to sneak upon several deer—he got so far as to pet one’s snout—but it after two near-kick-in-the-face-that-would-have-resulted-in-a-smashed-nose experiences, it was decided that finding yet another tactic would be wise.

“You’re calm.”

“Yep.”

“Quiet.”

A nod.

“You have a non-threatening scent.”

“...I guess?”

Kass clicked his tongue in thought. “Then what are they afraid of?”

 _“I hunt a lot,”_ Link signed after a moment, hesitating. _“Maybe they sense...ill-intent.”_

“Maybe. I’ve been told they can sense fear.”

Link stiffened. Kass waited for him to respond, then said: “Is it fear?”

_“I don’t know, I’ve had more than a couple horses kick me. It’s stupid, but I do get a little tense when I approach from behind.”_

“I would, too. Majestic as such creatures are, they are equally powerful and wild. I’ll see if I can sneak up on the next one, and—“

Suddenly, Link’s eyes got big. He put his finger up, grabbed his ocarina, and blinked at Kass, blue orbs seeking approval.

“You think we should play?”

_“Might put them at ease.”_

“You could be onto something, my friend! No harm in trying.”

It worked like a charm. Kass’ fingers danced along the keys of his accordion as Link crept towards a grazing deer, and in no time Link laid his hand atop the beast’s shiny coat. The deer visibly relaxed at the touch, but didn’t look nearly as peaceful as Link; his strokes across its back were long, and he hummed as he went, a slight smile on his lips. It was then that Kass realized who needed the music the most.

Unsurprisingly, the buck protested when Link mounted, but it was subdued enough to let him steer. Kass felt lighter, airier, once they were both on the platform.

He gazed in awe as a shrine burst from the ground, it’s sides reflecting the sun and it’s intricate patterns creating even more light with their luminescence. If he had any doubts (which he didn’t) about Link’s identity, the way the hero came up to the shrine, set the Sheikah slate on the pedestal, and waltzed right in like he did it every day would have eradicated them.

He came out a thousand times more enthusiastic, too. Kass found the source of his excitement right away; he held a large, jagged, neon-yellow sword that sparked and surged and transformed Link into a specter in its glow. Kass could feel the unpredictable power even with seven-plus feet shielding him from the blade.

He matched Link’s excitement easily. “That was quick! And it appears the treasure was not overstated. Is that why you wanted to find this shrine?”

Link, to Kass’ shock (pun intended), gave him a negative shake.

“No?”

“I need to get stronger,” Link explained, tightening his hold on the weapon.

“Mm,” Kass acknowledged. “If not weaponry, what role do the shrines have in making you stronger?”

“It’s hard to explain.”

“Tests?”

Link nodded.

“Ah! New combat techniques? Knowledge?”

“Sort of.”

“Are the weapons a part of it?”

Kass may have accidentally overwhelmed Link with his questions, because the kid’s ability to verbally communicate seemed to fail. _“I’m pretty sure this,”_ he brandished the blade, _“is a plus. The shrines were primarily made to help the hero train. Mental trials, physical trials—evaluations. It depends on the shrine, though.”_

“Intriguing. Thank you for indulging me. No scholar alive knows what’s inside the shrines, though there is a lot of conjecture. I feel quite lucky.”

Link nodded in acceptance, playing around with the blade a bit, testing its weight and reach.

“And for one person to complete so many...there are hundreds from what I’ve read.”

“Oh,” Link scratched his head; signed, _“I don’t have to. I shouldn’t have to.”_

And Kass was thrown off again. “Why do you?”

“I,” Link inhaled, “I’m not....”

He made an apologetic gesture, a broken-off version of the sign. _“I’m not strong enough to free the Master Sword as I am. I was worthy—before—but I changed.”_

Through the confusion, Kass felt a. He had only a vague, admittedly biased idea of the kind of person Link had been in the past, but there was no reason Kass could see for him to be rejected now.

“The Sword that Seals the Darkness chooses definitively, Link. It is not irresolute in it’s decision. If you were worthy before,” Kass put the tip of his wing on Link’s arm, “you will be worthy again.”

The buzz of the electric blade became louder. Link’s mouth twitched; Kass gave him the time to speak, and he didn’t regret it. “Thank you, teacher.”

“My student, I am happy to help however I’m able,” Kass said, his crest rising. “And, well—I think I can further assist you in your search for strength....”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kass: That. is. dangerous!! 
> 
> Link: :D
> 
> Kass: You could die!
> 
> Link: Been there done that, lol.


	5. Fighter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so delayed. My schedule, which already tends to be ignored, got thrown out completely during the holidays. >_< But I come bearing a belated gift! Fair warning: it’s a little sadder than usual. *sends said gift hurtling towards your brain*

Kass hated heat; and above all, humidity. Hebra—home—always had frigid, crisp air and feather-ruffling wind, but the areas bordering Faron were always either soaked with rain, or filled with this sticky, hot, stagnant air that Kass was currently choking in.

The humidity became even denser as they neared Lake Hylia. Link was quiet, per usual. Kass entertained himself with his own conversation to keep from forgetting he had a follower (he never talked to himself when he travelled alone—his thoughts were loud enough).

“Farosh is my personal favorite of the dragons,” he mused, “Life, growth, earth...so much gentler than fire and ice.”

Link grunted, which was monumental considering he almost never reacted to anything—barring questions—while they were on the trail; it piqued Kass’ curiosity.

“Do you dislike Farosh?”

“No, I just...find it ironic that the element of courage is the mildest of the three.”

“I don’t think it odd at all. You are mild. You are brave. They go together.”

Kass looked behind him to see Link tilting his head in a so-so gesture. _“How does my cowardice fit with the courage-bearer thing?”_

“Fire. Think about the Gorons. The element itself is fierce and threatening, unpredictable. Yet their power lies in defense. Protection. Stability.”

“Daruk,” Link offered.

“Exactly. Naydra and her wisdom. Snow and ice...they’re cold, unforgiving. But the Zora are kind and warm, full of energy and curiosity. If I dare say, they are hopeful, too. Idealistic to an extent, rather than jaded and subdued like one would expect from a wise race—well, the majority, anyway.

“Wisdom requires a desire for knowledge; as such, real wisdom has to do with balance, open-mindedness and empathy. The Mipha of legend had empathy. Princess Zelda, an open mind. Power can be used to control others, or to defend from danger; it should be put in check. Humility is essential. The Great Daruk had it in spades. As for courage...there is no courage in the absence of fear. Timidity draws out true bravery. To stand and fight when the urge to turn and run is overwhelming ensures that whatever you’re fighting for is impor—“

_Thump_. 

Kass found Link collapsed several feet behind, eyes wide and haunted, knees buried in the mud that the sun hadn’t quite dried. He was shaking underneath its heat.

“Link!”

Silence.

“Link? Can you hear me?”

Not a twitch.

Kass risked a brush of his wing across Link’s hand. Nothing. He was somewhere else; somewhere far, far away. Kass wasn’t sure it made a difference, but he kept his wing there, unable to move. It was impossible to watch this without reaching out in an attempt to comfort him—futile or not.

At some point or another, Link’s cerulean eyes became glassy with tears. He still wouldn’t acknowledge calls or touches—Kass was now fairly certain that he couldn’t. He remained frozen in place as streams traveled down his cheeks and seeped into his skin. The sight tugged at Kass’ heart.

An eternity passed before Kass spotted movement. Slowly, Link came back to reality; a blink, a change in his expression, a squeeze of Kass’ wingtip. Until, at last, he turned and _saw_.

There were no questions. They simply sat for a moment; Link’s expression hadn’t lost all its deadness and Kass was willing to wait however long it took for an explanation to come. But his patience was replaced with helplessness soon; he wanted to grab Link’s hand again when he brought it to his sternum, drawing that frustrating, pointless, unneeded circle. _“I’m sorry. Memory.”_

“Don’t be, fledgling.”

Link covered his mouth. His chest convulsed. Kass thought Link was going to puke before he heard a stifled hiccup escape his throat instead.

“Breathe.”

The unsatisfied gasps continued.

“You can cry, Link.”

A head-shake.

“You could pass out if you keep—“

At the first sob—choked and unwilling as it was—Kass pulled Link close, barely stopping himself from suffocating the kid in his wings. He settled for hugging Link against his side and giving him room to escape if he wanted, but Link did the exact opposite and let his face sink into the crook of Kass’ wing.

It felt achingly similar to any time one of his daughters was upset, except this time the physical and emotional weight had grown; this time he couldn’t say, confidently, that no harm would befall the broken thing he was holding.

When Link stopped shuddering and started sniffling, he began to readjust, leaning away.

“I’m a mess,” he mumbled, swiping at his face.

Kass retracted his wing. He cooed. “You said that was a memory. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been to trouble you so.”

“Not the memory that...um....” Link pointed to his swollen eyes.

“I see,” Kass said. There was a stretch of silence. Usually Kass would wait for his daughters to open up about what had upset them on their own; but he decided that with Link, he should make it clear that words were okay. “If you would like to talk, I am here to listen.”

Link focused on the ground.

“...And if you would like to carry on with our journey, that is fine as well.”

No immediate response. Then, a few seconds later: “The things that I don’t—can’t—remember are the hardest.”

“How much do you...recall?”

“Pieces.” Link fidgeted. “Nothing’s whole. It’s all mixed up.”

When he started to sign, the words came easier, ebbed and flowed and the waves evened out the pressure. His shoulders relaxed with every gesture.

_“What bothers me the most is how little I know about who I’m supposed to be; when I see my old self, I can’t see anything other than my role. A solider. Did I enjoy fighting? Did I have a teacher? Friends? What was my favorite food? Where did I live? Did I have siblings? What was the name of my horse?”_ Link kept going faster and faster until he lost his energy, cut himself off; rested his hands in his lap, head drooping, expression weary. _“I don’t know who I was, not really. Sometimes the me of the past seems like a stranger.”_

“You lost your identity,” Kass breathed.

Link nodded. _“I’ve forgotten my family completely—in the memory I just regained, the princess was talking about my father, and...I realized I miss him, even though he’s only an idea to me.”_

Unsure what else to do, Kass spread his wings once more. Link hadn’t lost his memory, or his family, or himself—he’d lost an entire _life_. But in the process, he’d been given a new one. And Kass would help him claim it.

“Whoever you were, whoever your family was, you have the ability to make peace in the absence of the past. You can start over, Link. No one will blame you.”

Link accepted the embrace, returned it tenfold. Kass didn’t want to let him go.

He felt worse, when, as he did, Link stiffened. He avoided Kass’ gaze, opened his mouth and clamped it shut.

“What is it that you wish to say, fledgling?”

“It’s just,” he started, voice still raw, “I hope I had a father like you, before.”

“Link, I—” Kass’ feathers grew wet with tears of his own. “Maybe you did. Maybe you didn’t...but rest assured, you have me. And I’m here now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, as always! I will continue to update on weekends; however, chapters may come every two weeks instead (I’ll try to keep it every week—just giving you a heads up so you don’t think I’ve abandoned it). Mark my words: This. Will. Get. Finished.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I should update this next Friday but if not then, by Sunday. I WILL NOT LET PROCRASTINATION RUIN IT I SWEAR. Comments are appreciated—feedback and kudos make my day. ^o^


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